


Together Or Not At All

by lockmyheart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angst, M/M, Overdosing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1475908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockmyheart/pseuds/lockmyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are both aware of the fact that it's a suicide mission, but it's alright as long as they go together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together Or Not At All

**Author's Note:**

> I found this lying around on my computer and decided to finish it. Un-beta'd, so any mistakes are mine, feel free to point them out to me if you catch some.

“Don’t.”

Dean closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the dusty window. “This is the only option,” he says, his hands tightening into fists.

“We can run,” Cas suggests. His voice sounds empty, hollow. He knows he can’t change Dean’s mind and that he’s only grasping at straws. “We don’t have to do this. We can hide.”

“Where, Cas?” Dean asks and turns around, his hands hanging limply down at his sides. “This is the only chance we’ve got.”

Except that they have no chance and they both know it. This is it; there is nothing more they can do. Dean can march into Detroit with a brave face and his head held high but it has been over for a long time, ever since Heaven fell, and Lucifer is going to snap him like a twig and then end the world. And Dean would rather go down swinging than hiding like a frightened rabbit in a cave somewhere and die as the world burns under Lucifer’s rule.

He looks at Cas even though he wants to look away because Cas’s jaw is trembling. And when Cas visibly pulls himself together and nods, Dean feels another part of him break. Cas, ever so loyal despite what a shitty friend Dean has been to him lately, will gladly go down with him, will still do whatever he can to prevent Dean from dying alone.

“Good,” Dean says stiffly and turns back around. “We leave in an hour.”

Behind him, Cas takes a shuddering breath. “I’ll let them know.”

 * 

Cas pretends he doesn’t know what’s going on or what Dean has planned. He doesn’t tell the others that it’s a suicide mission; that they’re throwing in the towel, giving up. He doesn’t tell them any of that because he can’t. Some of them still think they can win this war. It breaks his heart and so he knocks back three pills and swallows them down with a mouthful of old whiskey because the water here tastes like rust. It burns going down but it’s a good burn, the kind that blurs the edges and lifts him from the ground so he can pretend that he can still fly.

Dean doesn’t approve of his habits but lately he has stopped commenting on it. Cas knows it’s because they’re going to die soon anyway, so why care if Cas enjoys getting high? Secretly he thinks Dean is glad that he has some sort of coping method.

He can’t cope with this though and the pills aren’t working right. He shakes out another and swallows it dry as he collapses onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. He stares up at the clock through blurry eyes. Forty minutes. He catches himself wondering if Heaven still exists and if it does, will he be let in? More importantly, will Dean be there with him? Because if not then Cas doesn’t see the appeal in going home. He would rather cease existing entirely.

He groans and lies down, too dizzy to sit up any longer. He brings the bottle of whiskey with him and takes a swig lying down. A drop trickles down his chin but he doesn’t bother wiping it off.

Next thing he knows he’s vomiting onto the floor, gagging on something that seems to be lodged in his throat and he heaves desperately, clawing at the bed beneath him. He doesn’t stop in what seems like ages but finally he’s able to breathe again and he flops back onto the bed, panting, drenched in his own sweat.

“ _What the hell was that_?”

Cas opens his eyes and squints. “Dean?”

Dean huffs in what seems like disbelief and stands up, running a hand through his hair. Cas realizes he must have stuck a finger in Cas’s throat. “I can’t believe you,” he hisses and Cas frowns. “Don’t you dare giving me that face!” he yells. Cas would have flinched a little if he wasn’t so used to him yelling. “I am _not_ going to let you just… whatever you just tried to do. No. Not like this, no way, Cas.”

That’s when Cas finally understands what happened. He pales and sits up slowly. “That’s never happened before,” he says carefully. Everything aches, his heart is racing and his hands are shaking.

“Well, it happened now!” Dean’s loud voice echoes through the room. “I come in here and you’re lying there completely unresponsive, a nearly empty bottle of pills next to you that you _fucking washed down with whiskey_ , what did you think was going to happen, huh?”

The unspoken question was right there in Dean’s eyes and Cas felt a stab of regret. Dean honestly thinks that he would… “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he says. “I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you, I promised I’d –“

“Would you rather I hadn’t come?” Dean asks and the expression on his face is so broken that Cas wants to stand up and walk over to him, but he’s too shaky to stand. “Would you…” He trails off and clears his throat. “Would you rather go like this? It’s not my call, it’s yours. If you want…” He swears and looks down in an attempt to hide that his eyes have gone glassy. “I can’t stop you.”

Cas’s heart speeds up, panicked, and he stares at Dean, his jaw slack. “No,” he breathes at last. He can’t even think about that, about dying anywhere else than beside Dean, the man he defied Heaven for. “No. I’m coming with you.” Dean wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to die alone.

Dean swallows hard and rubs his face. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Cas nods. He knows. He’s sorry, too.

Dean waits a moment before he strides towards the bed and for a second Cas panics because _no_ , their first kiss can’t be when Cas has just heaved up half the contents of his stomach, but Dean doesn’t kiss him. Instead he simply leans down, cups the back of Cas’s neck, and rests his forehead against his, eyes closed. His breath hits Cas’s face and his own eyes flutter shut. He reaches up to lightly grasp Dean’s bicep. For a moment, Cas is able to pretend that they are somewhere else and he thinks Dean is, too. They have never talked about this, it’s been a silent mutual agreement that it would be too risky and they shouldn’t get too attached. Now Cas regrets it so much it burns.

They stay like that for what feels like a lifetime but then Dean draws a breath. “You should start putting yourself together,” he says quietly, eyes still closed. “We leave in thirty minutes.” And then he pulls away and just like that it’s the end of the world again.

He watches Dean leave and for the first time in years, Castiel sinks down to his knees and prays.  


End file.
